


Did it hurt when you fell?

by Lacerta



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Beater Bucky Barnes, Chaser Clint Barton, Getting Together, M/M, Quidditch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:27:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26938138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacerta/pseuds/Lacerta
Summary: Clint Barton is one of the most skilled Chasers Hogwarts has ever seen. He's also one of the most accident-prone students in the school. But he never, ever misses.Bucky Barnes plays for a rival team, but that doesn't stop him being intrigued by the daring Hufflepuff. Whoisthat guy, and how is he still alive?
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton & Phil Coulson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 29
Kudos: 64





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A classic story of being a writer: I let my mind wander and I got a Quidditch AU that was too good to ignore. It's a story I write for fun, without a schedule, so you can expect irregular updates, but I promise the updates will happen!
> 
> Big thanks to the Winterhawk Discord server for cheering me on, and even bigger thanks to wonderful veryrachael for the beta!

"Who _is_ this guy?" Bucky murmurs as he watches the Mediwitch levitate the Chaser off the pitch. The Hufflepuff, though looking only half-conscious, raises his hand in a victory sign towards the stands. The students scream even louder in response.

"That's Barton," Steve answers with a frown. Bucky notices him exchange a respectful nod with the other team's Captain.

"I know he's Barton, you briefed me on all the teams yourself, I mean—" Bucky pauses, not sure how to phrase his confusion. He spins his bat in frustration. "Who _does_ that?"

His best friend chuckles. "He's always pulled these kinds of stunts. You remember the match I made you watch last year?"

Bucky does his best to remember. He's not a Quidditch fan, much to Steve's neverending chagrin, and he only gave it a try because being a Beater is a socially acceptable way of releasing built-up aggression. Learning to work with the team after he got in was... challenging at best, and one of the worst parts of the uninspiring game. Before the tryouts this September, he hadn't even seen that many matches. Last year he only went once after he lost a bet with Steve, so it shouldn't be that hard to remember the game, even if he wasn't paying that much attention—

"No way." He suddenly remembers a guy who was taken to the hospital wing after he refused to dodge a Bludger flying towards the goals and got pummeled off his broom. "That's _him_?!"

"Barton." Steve just nods.

"How is he still _alive_?" There's a trace of awe in Bucky's voice that he wasn't able to hide well enough.

"Thanks to the top-notch medical skills of Madam Cho, no doubt," Steve chuckles, then throws an arm around Bucky's shoulder and nudges him to head back to their changing room. The Hufflepuff team is still celebrating their win on the pitch, clearly used to Barton being taken to the hospital wing after a game. Their Captain does keep sneaking worried glances towards the castle though. "He's reckless," Steve carries on as they walk. "But he's good, and getting even better. He never misses, you know?"

Bucky hums in response; they enter the changing rooms and the chaos inside makes it too hard to continue the conversation. But now that Steve’s refreshed his memory, Bucky can remember that last year Barton didn't miss either. He got bludgered off his broom and he still made a perfect throw. Gryffindor won that time; ‘Spidey’ Parker caught the snitch while everyone's attention was on Barton. But Barton scored.

Who the fuck _is_ this guy?

***

"And did you see that throw?" Clint preens from his bed. He's been in the hospital wing for the last few hours and he's finally regained consciousness, waking to find Coulson sitting by his bed with a thick, boring-looking book. Clint’s glad, hospitals are _the worst_ without someone to talk to.

"I saw you get injured." A pause. Coulson glances up from behind the book. "Again."

"But we won!" Clint protests immediately, and he immediately regrets it when Coulson, in his immaculate school robes, no wrinkle to be seen, frowns. It's not an angry frown. Worried, maybe? Definitely disappointed. Clint sags back onto his pillow.

"A single victory is nothing. I need all my teammates in perfect condition if we're to win again."

Clint stares at the ceiling, carefully avoiding Coulson's eyes. Fuck. It's not like he's risking it on purpose, right? But when he sees a perfect opportunity, when he sees the angles align, when he _knows_ he can make the throw— how could he decide to fly away?

Okay, so if he puts it like that, it does kinda sound like it's on purpose after all.

He sighs.

"You know Madam Cho can put me back together," he says quietly to the ceiling.

They stay in silence for a while. Clint wonders if his Captain's frown has softened, the way Nat says it sometimes does when Clint's not looking, but he doesn't dare check. After a few minutes Clint hears the book close, the chair scuffle sharply on the floor and two feet step heavier on the floor as Coulson stands up. Out of the corner of his eye, Clint notices him open his mouth, inhale, and close it without saying anything, sighing and turning on his heel instead. Clint is sure he'll leave without saying goodbye, but right before he opens the infirmary door, he speaks up.

"Do get better, Clint."

And with that, he's gone. Clint is left alone in the hospital wing, and what has he said about it? _The worst_. He tries sitting up, but the nausea hits him as soon as he gets upright, and he's forced to settle back on the bed. The far wall ignores the frustrated glare he levels at it.

He can get better. Hell, he can get to be the _best_. He will be the best marksman Chaser that Hogwarts has ever seen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint feels like he’s being watched. He finds the culprit when he looks at the table behind him.
> 
> “Hey, Coulson? What was the Gryffindor Beater’s name again?”

Madam Cho has a very peculiar relationship with releasing Clint from the infirmary, in that her medical training means she ought to prevent him from leaving by any means necessary before his major injuries are healed, and yet she couldn't be happier to let him out when the time comes. Not that Clint complains.

He waves his goodbye and skips cheerfully down the stairs to the Great Hall just in time for breakfast. No one's waiting for him by the infirmary doors, but he doesn't mind. It's not his first rodeo, and if he expected someone to be there every time he's released from the hospital wing, he'd have to pay them for a full-time job. It's enough that Coulson's always by his bed when Clint wakes up, and that Nat sneaks in with snacks when he's stuck there for longer than a night.

When he opens the door to the Great Hall, he can’t help but wince at the noise. He’s basically fine, and Madam Cho assured him there won’t be any lasting damage, but Merlin, _the noise_. His headache comes back in an instant.

Clint contemplates heading to the kitchens to grab something to eat in the quiet, but then someone at the Hufflepuff table notices him and calls out his name, and the whole House cheers for him. There’s no way he can back away without making a scene, so he plasters a wide smile onto his face and waves at his Housemates.

They greet him as he passes, some inviting him to have breakfast with them, but he just keeps smiling and nodding until he gets to his usual spot. It’s easier than straight out rejection, for both sides.

Clint’s usual place at the Hufflepuff table is among the 6 & 7th years. He started hanging out with older students because of his brother, but after Barney graduated, Clint couldn’t find his place with his peers anymore. For the first few months he struggled to find a group he could fit in with, but then Coulson adopted him like a stray and the Quidditch team got friendly enough with him. And that’s where he sits now.

“That was a sick throw, Barton!”

“You’re probably crazy, but I’m glad you’re on our team.”

He’s welcomed by his teammates’ honest compliments, and his smile grows a little less fake.

“Aww, thanks," he says, reaching for his coffee. The mug is always waiting for him, filled to brim with coffee, black and sweet, exactly as he likes it. It's a small gesture that still means a lot, because Coulson doesn't often show his affection. It's how Clint knows he cares.

Clint closes his eyes and breathes in the delicious, bitter smell. Then he breathes in the coffee.

He sets the now empty mug aside and looks around at the table, searching for his breakfast favourites– and shooting surreptitious glances at students around him. He can put on a show in front of the audience with the best of them, but when the exhaustion and pain numb him down, he’d rather stay out of the spotlight until he feels sharp again. Thankfully, the students seem to be content to merely gossip about him rather than to him, pointing him out to each other occasionally but not paying him more attention than quick looks across the table. Those are fine, but he still feels like he’s being watched more intently by someone.

He finds the culprit when he’s reaching for pumpkin juice and subtly looks at the table behind him.

“Hey, Coulson?”

“Yes?” The older student sets his own mug down and turns slightly to face Clint. Always so awfully, admirably proper; no wonder he made Head Boy.

“What was the Gryffindor Beater’s name again?”

“Do you mean Banner? Polite, glasses, top of his class, with a mean swing?”

That guy’s transformation when he gets on a broom is downright terrifying, but off the pitch he’s as withdrawn as they get, not counting his unexpected friendship with Stark. He wouldn’t stare at anyone, he’s too well-mannered. Clint shakes his head.

“No, that other one. The broody, quiet one. Looks like he could kill you but hot enough that you’d let him?” Oops. Was that too much? It probably was, judging by Coulson’s wary frown.

“What are you plotting, Barton, and do I even want to know?”

“Nothing!” It’s an instinct to deny any and all accusations, so really, a distrustful raised brow is understandable, but this time he’s actually telling the truth, dammit. “I swear, nothing! He’s the one who keeps staring at me!”

They’re loud enough that the whole team overhears his protests and, lacking any subtlety, all turn at once to face the Gryffindor table, looking for the Beater in question. All except Coulson. He and Clint share a resigned sigh.

“It’s Barnes,” Coulson finally says after a long sip of his coffee. “Bucky Barnes.”

Clint commits the name to memory. He knows the guy, or rather, _of_ him. He’s Steve Rogers’ friend, and everyone knows Steve Rogers, but they’re a year above Clint, so he never had any business to learn the Gryffindor’s name. But the surname sounds familiar, as if Clint should have recognised it from somewhere...

“What are you going to do with that?”

Clint hums. He hasn’t thought about it, has he? He takes time before giving Coulson his answer but in the end he settles for, “I don’t know yet. But I’ll try not to break any rules?”

The older Hufflepuff just nods and gets back to his breakfast. Clint should probably do the same, but first… He turns to the table behind him –there’s no point in being subtle after how obvious his team’s interest was– and sure, Barnes is still looking at him, though he looks a bit more confused now, and somewhat embarrassed when he notices Clint staring right back at him. Still, he doesn’t look away. Aiming to leave an impression, Clint smirks and sends him a wink.

He gets to enjoy Barnes’ bewildered face for only a brief moment, before the Gryffindor _winks back_.

He can’t help but snort at that, and when he turns back to his breakfast, his mood is way better than it was back in the infirmary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so they meet! Or rather: make eye contact. They'll meet properly soon, I promise, but first Clint needs to go fool around some more before I let them.
> 
> Feedback turns into inspiration, and inspiration turns into words~! Let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ll kill him,” Bucky says furiously, turning around to face his best friend. Stevie’s visibly worried; the mother hen probably thinks Bucky’s had a flashback or something, and the thought makes Bucky even more pissed. “If he doesn’t get himself killed, I swear I will kill him myself.”

It’s getting ridiculous. Even Steve noticed something’s up. _Steve_. You can’t get more oblivious than him.

The thing is, Bucky can’t stop himself.

It all started when he got intrigued by the possibly suicidal but impossibly skilled Chaser. He was a puzzle Bucky wanted to figure out. Watching Barton was only logical! But then the Hufflepuffs noticed - and to be fair, staring like that could be seen as rude - but Bucky refused to be cowed by social norms. His decisions were his own and no one else’s, not anymore. So he stared on defiantly, fully expecting an angry reaction, but he didn’t account for Barton’s cheek.

And then it was like Bucky got hooked.

He doesn’t _intend_ to watch Barton, and yet he keeps noticing the Hufflepuff in the crowd and when he does, he’s too aware of his presence to ignore him. He doesn’t try too hard to ignore Barton, frankly, because Barton notices him too, and apparently makes it a point of honour to do something stupid whenever they make eye contact. Stupid, silly, daring, but always entertaining.

When Bucky notices Barton on the courtyard, he realises he’s started feeling a fond curiosity about what the Hufflepuff will come up with today. How did that happen? He’s never even talked to the guy.

Barton’s sitting up in a tree with a Slytherin Bucky recognises from a couple brief encounters. Barton’s talking to her – or _at_ her, as she seems to be reading a book and only nodding at appropriate moments in between her friend’s expressive gesticulation. It’s a wonder that he doesn’t fall off his branch, really, with such wide gestures.

The moment Barton notices Bucky, he pauses, and that makes the Slytherin look up from her book in surprise. She makes a face or wants to say something, but Bucky’s attention is no longer on her, because Barton smiles wildly, moves and _falls backwards from the tree_.

Bucky tenses, gasps. He takes an alarmed step; he wants to rush over but he realises he can’t make it in time. It’s happening so fast; how could _anyone_ react in time? He hears Steve calling out his name. Right, he notes absent-mindedly, they’ve been talking about something. That’s funny, Bucky thinks watching Barton fall. He can’t quite remember what it was.

He feels Steve squeeze his shoulder, and he startles, and shoots a glance at his friend. He regrets it immediately, because as scary as watching the accident is, not witnessing it feels even worse. He turns around, ready to rush and–

When he looks back at the tree, Barton’s hanging upside down from the branch and with an easy smile sends him a lazy salute.

“I’ll kill him,” Bucky says furiously, turning around to face his best friend. Stevie’s visibly worried; the mother hen probably thinks Bucky’s had a flashback or something, and the thought makes Bucky even more pissed. “If he doesn’t get himself killed, I swear I will kill him myself.”

He refuses to look at the tree again, but Steve does, and he must notice the Hufflepuff, because his shoulders relax. He doesn’t know what happened, but his face says that knowing that it’s Barton explains a lot.

Bucky has no idea what it explains, and right now he’s not interested in finding out. He grabs Steve by the sleeve of his robes and tugs him back inside the castle.

“We’re going, Stevie.”

Steve chuckles but lets himself be dragged away from the courtyard.

“You remember we were headed for the greenhouses, right, Buck?” he asks when they’re inside.

The greenhouses. In the opposite direction. _Back across_ the patio they’ve just left.

Fuck. Bucky turns on his heel with a growl. When he stomps through the courtyard, he pointedly refuses to look anywhere but straight ahead.

***

Bucky would say that he doesn’t pay any attention to Barton after the fright he gave him, but that would be a lie, because it turns out avoiding the Hufflepuff takes more effort than he expected. The guy seems to be everywhere Bucky goes. The Library, the lake, and Merlin, there’s no avoiding him in the Great Hall. Barton being a year younger is a small fucking mercy in this whole mess, because at least they don’t share any classes. 

It only takes a week for Bucky’s resolve to start breaking, and he realises that he _misses_ Barton’s stupid shenanigans. He still has no idea how he got emotionally attached to a person he’s never talked to, but here he is.

“What is it about Barton, Buck, that gets you so…” Steve waves a hand, unable to find a good way to phrase his thoughts, and Bucky tries to figure out what he means. Distracted? Frustrated?

“Smitten.” It’s Stark who cheerfully chimes in.

Bucky glares at him. Sometimes he really hates Stark’s guts and wishes they didn’t live in the same Tower.

“Restless,” Steve amends, but his mouth is pressed thin, the way it always is when he tries not to laugh.

“He’s an idiot,” Bucky says with a shrug.

“Is ‘an idiot’ your type? Because that makes you, too, an id–” Stark runs his mouth again, and only stops when Steve squeezes his forearm.

Steve’s a good influence on Stark. He’s the guy’s whole self-restraint, and sometimes doubles as a moral compass, because Stark’s upbringing wasn’t exactly full of stellar role models. They’re good together, and Bucky appreciates how happy it makes Steve, no matter how badly he gets on with Stark himself. Most of the time he ignores the Gryffindor to stay civil, and that’s what he opts for for this time.

“He’s got rare skills,” Bucky carefully weights his words. “But he’s fucking reckless, it’s a wonder he’s lived this long. I guess I wanted to understand where that mix comes from?”

“Oh, that’s easy, Buckaroo, you mash together a desire to prove himself and a history of gaslighting, and you get Clint Barton’s sucidal feats.”

Bucky blinks. That… does make sense. Besides, Stark’s well versed in all the gossip spreading through the castle, being something of a celebrity himself, and he knows which sources to trust. If there’s something to know about Barton, it’s unsurprising that he’s heard it.

“Gaslighting?”

“Oh, Bucky Bear!” Tony’s clearly delighted at the chance to share the gossip. He sets aside a notebook that he’s been doodling runes in, and leans towards Bucky from his spot beside Steve on the couch. Bucky’s sitting next to them in an armchair closer to the fireplace, and Stark doesn’t even notice that he leans heavily into Steve’s personal space to look at him properly. He doesn’t notice Steve’s fondly amused face either. “You know Barton Junior has a brother, right?”

That’s news to Bucky, actually. He had no idea the guy existed until like, a few weeks ago; how would he know anything about his family?

“So Barney Barton, he was in Hufflepuff too, three years above you and Steve, and played Chaser for their team, no less. He hung out with some particularly shady Slytherins, and rumor says he even threw a few games for them.” Stark shrugs. “And then his younger brother joined the team– because of course he did, with that skill, how wouldn’t he? But they had a falling out just a few months later, supposedly over the shady deals with the Slytherins that older Barton tried to guilt trip Clint into. No hard proof, though. But Barney didn’t even talk to his brother until he graduated, and then disappeared without a trace. Which, huh, must suck if your older sibling is the only family you have left.”

Fuck. That’s not a story Bucky expected to hear. He’s raised his brows somewhere along the way; he doesn’t know what to think about it. He suddenly feels shitty about his reaction to the tree incident, when he started ignoring Barton. He knows he has a valid reason, but he hasn’t thought about how it must feel from the other side. Bucky imagines, after hearing Barton’s story, it must look like being ghosted for no good reason once again.

Ugh. He hates it when he feels like he should apologise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been longer than I intended, sorry about that! My plan at the moment is to post _something_ weekly, but I didn't want to post this chapter before I have a draft for the next one. ^^
> 
> We're ~~slowly~~ getting to the part where Bucky and Clint talk to each other. With actual words. What's your guess on who breaks the silence first: the friendly Hufflepuff or the brave Gryffindor?
> 
> (Beta'd by wonderful veryrachael, all remaining mistakes are my own.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky’s never been good with words, so he chooses to break their impasse in a less direct way. He goes with Steve to watch a friendly.

Bucky’s never been good with words, so he chooses to break their impasse in a less direct way. He goes with Steve to watch a friendly.

Before he joined the team, he only knew about the friendly off-league matches because Steve stubbornly watches or participates in them all, unless he’s too swamped with schoolwork to stick his nose out of the Library. Even in these rare cases he keeps glancing out of the window and doodling Quidditch maneuvers; since Bucky knows his best friend well, he can easily tell that he feels guilty, as if he was letting his team down by not staying up-to-date with other teams’ strategies.

Having the opportunity to join the friendlies means that Bucky pays more attention to when they happen, but as a rule he isn’t interested in the ones that don’t include their team. This time, when Steve puts all his notes in his bag and stands up to leave for the Quidditch pitch, Bucky expects to get at least a raised eyebrow of surprise when he follows him. Instead, Steve just smiles. It’s infuriating how well he can read Bucky.

“It's the first Hufflepuff-only friendly this year,” he says conversationally as they walk out of the dungeons. “They let their substitutes play for the whole match, it’s good practice. We’ll be having one like that next week if everything goes well.”

“Do we even have enough substitutes for a whole second team?”

“Just about. Usually, if we have vacancies, Tony convinces a few people to join in even if they aren’t on the team.” Bucky nods at that. It makes sense; Tony’s charisma pulls people in without fail. Steve huffs a laugh. “Hufflepuff, on the other hand, has a whole army of subs. It’s like they have mandatory Quidditch service, everyone is ready to jump in if the team needs them.”

Bucky chuckles. The imagery of loyal, helpful Housemates is so stereotypically Hufflepuff-ish that it wouldn’t be all that surprising if it were true. Of course, most Badgers aren’t really like  _ that _ , and quite a few break all the expectations. Like Clint. Speaking of whom…

“So it’s only substitutes playing today?” If that’s the case, he’d have to scramble for a believable excuse why he’s no longer interested in the match, but he has a feeling Steve can see right through him anyway.

“That’s not what they usually do.” Steve gives him an amused look when he lets out a relieved breath a bit less inconspicuously than he intended. “They split the main team to keep it fair, and the substitutes rotate during the match. We’ll still get to see their best players.”

“Good,” Bucky says, aiming for a neutral tone. Steve still elbows him with a snicker. “Punk,” Bucky huffs in response and picks up his pace, but Steve just laughs and catches up with him easily.

The match itself is just as uninspiring as Bucky expected. Steve still fills a couple rolls of parchment with notes about the skill and potential of each substitute player of the Hufflepuff team, but the match consists of simple maneuvers. Understandably, it’s mostly a chance for the less experienced teammates to get some practice. 

Clint still catches Bucky’s attention. The maneuvers are pretty straightforward, but the ease with which Clint passes the Quaffle - with perfect aim every single time - is immensely satisfying to watch. Bucky appreciates competency.

Suddenly, a member of the opposing makeshift team claims the Quaffle in a brutal move against Clint, almost throwing him off his broom. Bucky only realises he’s half-standing when Clint regains balance and calls indignantly after his Housemate.

He glances at Steve who shoots him a quick amused grin before he focuses back on the game. Bucky wills his cheeks not to burn red with his embarrassment and follows Steve’s suit, turning his attention back to Clint.

He’s glad he does, because what he sees makes him let out a whistle, long and impressed, and this time Steve doesn’t make fun of him but stares at the pitch with both eyebrows raised.

***

“Foul!” Clint calls after Rumlow. He hates the guy. He’s a substitute, but he plays as a Chaser for Hufflepuff whenever Clint’s injured. The animosity grows whenever the guy takes Clint’s place on the team, but the selfish reason doesn’t make the hate any less real.

It  _ was _ a foul; if Hooch were there as referee, Rumlow would be out of the game. They’re only playing a friendly today, though, so there’s no referee. However, there was nothing  _ friendly  _ about the guy’s maneuver.

“Fuck you, Rumlow,” Clint mutters under his breath. He can’t outrace him, not with the head start the other guy has, but Clint’s nothing if not resourceful.

There’s a Beater right to his left: a substitute who fumbles with the bat, still unsure of how to properly apply force. There’s a Bludger flying in their direction, too. And Rumlow is on his way to score a goal.

Not on Clint’s watch.

The Beater cries out and practically drops the bat on his own when Clint dashes up to him with a murderous expression. He catches the bat, grips it tight and waits for– He swings; the Bludger is uncomfortably close to his own face by now, but for the trick to work, he needs to time it perfectly, hitting the ball just as Rumlow pulls his arm back to throw the Quaffle.

Clint doesn’t  _ need _ to watch his shot to know it’s perfect; he never misses. And yet, this time he doesn’t want to look away, watching with vicious satisfaction as the Bludger hits the Quaffle right as it leaves Rumlow’s hand. The screeching yelp the guy lets out is music to Clint’s ears.

He hears a long whistle, too, and catches sight of Bucky Barnes on the stands – a pleasing surprise, one he doesn’t have the time to dwell on any longer, because the Quaffle was knocked right into the Keeper’s hands and is back in the game.

Clint turns on his broom to return the borrowed bat, clasps the Beater’s shoulder and flies away with a grin to assist the substitute Chaser.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear they'll talk in the next chapter! They can't stall much longer, can they? :D
> 
> (Kudos to veryrachael for beta! <3)


End file.
